Northern California, I’d Recognize You Anywhere…

While having my morning coffee, I idly turned on the TV just for something to watch. One of the satellite movie channels was on (forgive me, conglomerate media corporations, I really can’t tell one of your channels from another. . .) and a movie was just beginning that I’d never heard of (although, this is not, by any means, an unusual occurrence -- I’ve never heard of most of them. . .) called “A Walk in the Clouds” with, among others, Keanu Reeves and Anthony Quinn.

From what I was able to discern after watching the entire film and reading the credits afterwards, “Clouds” was loosely based upon a book written by a couple of Italian (more likely “Italian-American”, I feel) gentlemen and is the story of an aristocratic, originally-Italian/ subsequently Italian-American (although, that’s a guess on my part because I've never read the book) wine-making family.

Apparently, in its infinite wisdom, the studio deemed the movie better served by engineering the plot to center around an originally-Spanish/subsequently-Mexican family, instead of how it was written. (I bet that little idea was so not well-received by the book’s authors…)

I’m also betting that the studio’s decision to change the nationality of the family had a heckuva lot more to do with budget concerns than anything else because once they'd paid for the acting services of Keanu Reeves and Anthony Quinn (which couldn’t have come cheap), they probably didn’t have enough money left to film it in far-off Italy...

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make really has nothing to do with this specific film except for the fact that, when I began watching it, I had no idea what it was about nor where it was filmed; however, when the 3-second opening panoramic view of the family winery was revealed -- which, remember, was supposed to be in Mexico or, if one read the book (which I didn’t), Italy -- it took me all of one-half second to blurt out loud to nobody in particular (unfortunately, I do that a lot. . .) “looks like Napa”.

Sometime around middle of the film, my husband (who had been outside doing yard work) took a break from his chores, came in and sat down on the couch for a couple of minutes. I told him that I’d gotten interested in this movie without really meaning to and gave him about a five or so second rundown of the plot.

Meanwhile, a shot of one of the lead characters sitting at an outdoor table in a grove of trees prompted me to blurt out loud once more (this time, at least, to someone in particular. . . Wow, the medication seems to really be working for me. . .), “See? Now, those are redwood trees! I’m sure of it! So, I was right; this had to be filmed in either Napa or Sonoma County!”

Hubby was so impressed by my acutely perceptive faculties that he immediately returned to his yard work and I watched the rest of the film by myself so that I could read through the credits at the end to discover where it was filmed.

Sure enough, when the location acknowledgements rolled around, I was validated when the film-makers acknowledged first “Napa County and the town and people of St. Helena” and, next, “Sonoma County”. (I’m assuming that since Napa County was first on the list, most of the film was shot there.)

All of this brings me unerringly (if not briefly) to the point I wanted to make in the first place which is how quickly I was able to identify Northern California's landscape.

A savvy music-buff can probably "Name That Tune" in three notes and I can “Name This Place” (if the “place” is Northern California) in approximately 0.5 seconds. . .

In other words (at the speed of standard cinemagraphic film with a soundtrack of 32 frames per second) I can “Name This Place” in an astounding 16 frames!

Those of us who were born and raised here are used to seeing our little corner of the planet on the big screen. . .

Hollywood directors use our locale a lot in films -- partly because of our comparative proximity to Tinseltown but mostly because (and I say this with all objectivity) we happen to live in one of the most beautiful places on the entire face of the planet.

That’s not just my opinion, mind you. . . Although, I haven’t exactly been a stay-at-home my whole life, either; I’ve seen most of the “Upper 48”, roughly three-quarters of the states of Mexico and three different Hawaiian Islands. So, while I can’t vouch for how the northern San Francisco Bay Area stacks up against the Yangtze River Valley or the Swiss Alps, I'm pretty sure it could hold its own. . .

Plus, there's got to be some reason why such a large number of “transplants” live here instead of wherever it was they came from. . .

Statistics will bear me out because, according to copious travel-industry studies over the years, San Francisco and/or the Golden Gate Bridge is the number-one destination for travelers from just about every country in the world.

In reality, though, there’s not just one thing that people like about Northern California. We have just about every type of terrain, mini-climate and activity that anyone could want and they’re all less than a day’s journey away. In point of fact, you can reach the beach, snow-ski resort, city or rural countryside in an hour or two's drive.

But, as our mothers’ used to say, it’s not just physical beauty that counts. . .

When one is talking about the beauty of a place, there are other factors that have to be considered, such as the caliber of its people, the levels of its available activities, the quality of its air and water, the responsiveness of its local services and crime statistics.

Some people qualify a place according to the number of fine restaurants that can be found there while, for others, that criteria might include its proximity to major sports or entertainment venues -- all of which can be found here. . .

There are also people who "can't live too far from the ocean", "the mountains", "the desert", "the forest" -- you fill in the blank -- and just about the only ecosystem you won’t find here is a tropical rain-forest. We’re a tad too far north for that; however, to be fair, we do have temperate zone rain-forests in Northern California.

It is the North Bay’s very flexibility and variety that Hollywood types find so attractive about it, so, it’s no wonder that a practiced eye can pick out local color in just about 7 out of every 10 movies in a random sampling. . .

Observe films and TV shows carefully and I think you'll find that, if the lead characters aren’t having a cup of coffee at a diner on Fisherman’s Wharf, they’re chasing some bad guy down Lombard Street, escaping from Alcatraz prison, sitting under a redwood tree or genteelly sipping a vintage Napa or Sonoma County wine. . .

As far as backdrops go, our vineyards look like France. . . or Italy. . . parts of our coastline bear an amazing resemblance to beaches in Massachusetts, Virginia and even England and (in the winter when we get the most rainfall) our hills could easily be mistaken for those in Ireland.

Our dense redwood forests are where Ewoks dwell and, it was in our swimming pools that girls with perfect teeth competed in a famous beauty pageant.

1950s-era teenagers have been known to tool up and down our streets listening to Wolfman Jack and at least one of them became a time traveler while attending one of our high school's reunions.

Orphaned young girls with sunshiny dispositions have been known to play croquet on the front lawns of our Victorian mansions while several members of one local, aristocratic family stabbed each other in the back every week on TV (and that’s not to mention the settings of all those car commercials -- and yes, even pornos. . .).

There is something unique about the lay of our Northern California land, its vegetation and its geology that allow its native sons and daughters (and even some of its transplants and frequent visitors) to be able to pick it out in crowd -- even if the "crowd" is two-dimensional celluloid.

To the rest of the world, Northern California is “The Birds”, “The Maltese Falcon”, "Dynasty" -- even “Charmed” -- and a multitude of other pseudo-realities but, to us, it’s really just “home”. . .

“30”